


Moral Existentialism and the Perfect Grilled Cheese Sandwich, or Bucky Barnes: Accidental Older Brother

by LizzieHarker



Series: The Arrowsverse [24]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Kate Bishop: Hawkeye, Marvel
Genre: Bucky is a damn good older brother, Gen, Kate Bishop Hawkeye - Freeform, Kate Bishop Needs a Hug, POV Bucky Barnes, and maybe a sandwich, and some solid life advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 20:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14701335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieHarker/pseuds/LizzieHarker
Summary: “What if you had the chance to go back and fix the past? Would you do it? If someone offered you something—someone—you desperately wanted back in exchange for . . .well, something you didn’t really want to lose, what would you do?”Bucky set his own sandwich aside. “Damn, Kate. Should have mentioned this was more ‘we need whiskey’ than ‘comfort food’ conversation.”“Sorry. I mean, I know what the right choice is. I made the right choice, but there’s always that ‘what if’ kicking around and,” she trailed off. “It was nice, you know, for a minute. I felt like everything was right again. I thought I'd made my peace, but . . .”





	Moral Existentialism and the Perfect Grilled Cheese Sandwich, or Bucky Barnes: Accidental Older Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Riffed a bit from Kelly Thompson's amazing (and too short-lived) Hawkeye run. No spoilers.  
> This is outside the main storyline, but still in 'verse.

Bucky slid one of his notebooks back into place on the living room shelf when a knock sounded at his door. He glanced at it; no one ever knocked. Basically every one of their friends had a key (largely stolen and copied from one another). The neighbors didn’t usually bother with them. Lord knew Hydra didn't believe in niceties. Bucky racked his brain but didn’t think either of them had ordered anything and why would it be delivered to their door? The knock came again and Bucky stood, eyes narrowed as he crossed the room. Katie-Kate stood on the other side, distorted by the viewer, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Street-clothes Kate meant she wasn’t on a mission, but even through the door, Bucky felt her nervous energy. 

He slid the lock free and opened it. “Hey, Katiehawk.”

“Can I come in?” Kate asked, brushing past him. “Cool, okay. Sorry to barge in, but I kinda need advice and it’s the kind I can't go to Clint for.”

Bucky blinked. “Please tell me you do not go to Barton for advice.”

“Well, sometimes, but that’s mostly so I’d know what he’d do, so I can, you know, do the opposite,” she answered.

“Okay, that’s fair. What do you need?”

Kate flopped onto the sofa, pulling her knees up to her chest. Uh oh. “I don’t know what I need.”

The corner of Bucky's mouth curled up. “Wanna start with a fancy grilled cheese sandwich?” She looked up at him and nodded. “Okay. Fancy grilled cheese. You think about what you need, then we’ll talk.”

Even years later, he still didn’t know how he and Steve got into the habit of feeding whoever happened to drop by. It felt good, and with as much as the two of them ate, they always had plenty on hand. Two smoked Gruyere, bacon, and apricot jam grilled cheese sandwiches later, Bucky sat beside Kate and handed her a plate. She balanced it on her knees.

“Aw, yes, you bought the good cheese.”

Bucky smiled. “We always buy the good cheese, Kate. What’s the point of being stupid rich on stolen and laundered Hydra money and seventy years of military backpay if we don’t buy the good cheese?”

Kate giggled and took a bite of her sandwich. “God, I love coming over here.”

He loved having Kate around. He didn’t see her much with her back-and-forth between New York and LA, but they’d gotten pretty close. Bucky thought he remembered having sisters, which would explain how quickly he took to her. “Ladyhawk, if you just wanted me to feed you, you wouldn’t have knocked,” Bucky said. “Spill.”

She picked at the crust, her smile vanishing. “What if you had the chance to go back and fix the past? Would you do it? If someone offered you something—someone—you desperately wanted back in exchange for . . .well, something you didn’t really want to lose, what would you do?”

Bucky set his own sandwich aside. “Damn, Kate. Should have mentioned this was more ‘we need whiskey’ than ‘comfort food’ conversation.”

“Sorry. I mean, I know what the right choice is. I made the right choice, but there’s always that ‘what if’ kicking around and,” she trailed off. “It was nice, you know, for a minute. I felt like everything was right again. I thought I'd made my peace, but . . .”

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder; he remembered feeling the same way, not so long ago. “It’s okay to ask ‘what if,’ Kate. I used to wonder all the time, especially in the beginning when I barely knew my own name. Sometimes I do wish I could go back. Things seemed simpler, but I know if I somehow managed to turn back the clock, I wouldn’t have as good a life, despite all the shit it took to get here.”

Bucky pushed up from the couch and went back over to the bookcase, pulling two of the unmarked black notebooks out, one from the front and one from the back. He handed them both to Kate. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes. “That is the first notebook I stole when broke protocol and left Hydra.”  
He watched Kate set her plate on the arm of the sofa, turning the notebook over in both hands. The cover was faded and cracked, scratched, worn on the edges. She didn't open it.

“Once I remembered Steve, remembered what I could of our lives before, I wished I could go back. Hide the draft letter, run off to Canada, erase it all. But I knew if I did, I wouldn’t get to keep Steve. See, they love talking about how the serum made him this great hero—which, wrong—but they ignore the fact that my little spitfire had a handful of years left. Stevie wouldn’t go down easy, but that didn’t mean one bout of the flu or one real bad winter wouldn’t snuff him out. He needed the serum. If it took me getting drafted to save his life, then it was worth it.

“Even before I'd gotten shipped out, I knew I wouldn't come back home. By the time Steve rescued me, I was already sick. But if the war ended, and Steve and I were somehow still breathing, there was no way we could go back to how things were, even if I got better.”

“Why not?” Kate asked. She cracked open the journal, flipping through the angry, harsh text and the badly drawn pictures, the things he'd stuffed between the pages fluttering out.

All the therapy in the world couldn't prevent his heart aching at the thought. Bucky shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. “We’d changed. It doesn’t mean we loved each other any less, but Steve had Peggy now, and I'd have given him up if that was what he’d wanted. He and Peg would get hitched, have a dozen adorable babies for me to spoil rotten, and I’d . . . I dunno, drift. I wasn’t much for marrying and settling down.” Kate snorted. Bucky nudged her shoulder. “Shut up.”

“You can’t change the past, Kate. Even if I could, the cost is too high. There’s always a price.”

Kate nodded, turning to the newer notebook. “I know. I wasn’t going to pay it. I told you I made the right choice and I don’t regret it.”

“Right doesn’t always mean easy. I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell me. And yeah, a lot of bad shit happened to me, and while I could do without the extensive brain damage and memory loss, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything." He smiled at her, glancing around his apartment. "I got the thing I wanted most: a life with the man I love.”

Kate picked at her jeans. “So, I’m not horrible for considering the wrong choice? Even for a second? My dad is a basically a super villain sans tacky getup, so villainy might run in the family.”

“You’re not horrible,” Bucky said, putting an arm around her. “Not for that, at least. The hip-holes, though, Katiehawk, what’s up with that?”

She giggled. “Aesthetic? I dunno, Buck.” She set both notebooks down and drew her knees back up. “Family stuff sucks.”

“Yeah, it does. It’s hard when the people you love aren’t the people you thought they were, or that you needed, or that you deserved. I don’t really buy into the whole ‘things happen for a reason’ line, but the challenges you face, and the way you handle whatever life throws at you, shapes who you are." He turned to face her, leaning back against the arm rest. "They raised you, yeah, but your parents don't get to decide who you're gonna be. You choose what you do when the bad things come. And that’s the biggest reason why I wouldn’t go back. That nice Bucky Barnes died during the war. I have his face and some of his memories, but I’m not that guy. I can't be, and deny that would be the worst disservice I could do to myself. Stevie didn’t survive that war either. If I went back, we wouldn’t fit anymore. And yet, here we are: both different, but we still fit.”

Bucky pulled her close, tucking her against his side. “I didn’t know you before, Kate, but I admire your fire and determination. You’re a hero, and you’re one hell of a badass. Whatever your father does isn't your problem to solve or your burden to bear. I’m proud of you, and I know what- or whoever you deal with beyond this point won’t stand a chance because of how amazing you’re going to be.”

Kate threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. “So . . .you’re sure I’m not . . .secretly evil?”

“Ladyhawk, the Fist of Hydra just made you a bitchin’ grilled sandwich. The most feared and dangerous assassin in the world is currently wearing yoga pants. I'm the king of the moral gray area.”

“Gooood point,” she said, pointing a finger gun at him. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re a good person, Kate. Blood doesn’t mean a damn thing when the people who raised you refuse to acknowledge who you are. You’re a Hawkeye. You belong with your friends in LA, but you always have a home and a family here.”

She leaned into him, closing her eyes. “I knew you’d be the one to talk to. Clint's a good mentor and all, but I knew you'd know what to say.”

“Any time,” Bucky said, patting her head. “You headed back to California soon?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Make sure you come visit, okay? My yoga class keeps asking about my sister. Took me too long to realize they meant you.”

Kate sat up, her smile back in place. “They think we’re related?”

“Yeah. I may have concocted an elaborate and entirely unnecessary backstory.”

She pumped her fists, way more excited than Bucky anticipated. “Futz yes! That’s so cool. I’m totally perpetuating that lie.”

Bucky laughed. “You’re not gonna tell creepy guys you're related to the Russian boogeyman just to get them to back off, are you?”

“Pfft,” Kate said, waving a hand. “I can take care of creepy guys all on my own, Sergeant Emo Eyeliner.”

“That’s my girl,” Bucky said, giving her a squeeze. He really did love Kate. He picked up her plate and handed it back. “Now finish your sandwich.”

“Ugh, yes, dad.”

He cringed. “Ew, weird.”

Kate hugged him again. “Thank you. Really. I’m glad you’re here, Buck.”

“You’ll get through it, Kate. I promise. And if you ever need anything, you have my number.”

“You can text me a sandwich?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think Stark’s that good, but if you call, I could probably walk you through it. Or Stevie and I can visit you, if you want.”

She nodded. “I’d like that. I’ll be the best tour guide ever, once I, uh, figure out more than where the good taco trucks are.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Bucky said, nudging her shoulder. Kate relaxed into the cushions, less tense than when she arrived. Sure, he didn’t know what the hell had happened, but that didn’t make comfort any less real. He was glad he could help. Kate would be okay. She was resilient and clever, and nothing kept her down for long. She’d overcome this rough patch, too, and be stronger for it. Whoever Kate was meant to become, Bucky had no doubt she’d be brilliant.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm... going through a thing. Friendly neighborhood reminder that family isn't just blood, but the people you bring into your lives. And if your family doesn't want to know who you are, or doesn't respect you, that's their loss, not yours. You're not required to keep toxic people around, even if you're related to them. <3


End file.
